My Skin on Your Skin
by BeautifulNights
Summary: Was it passion? Our hair didn't flow like silk, and our bodies didn't intertwine like they were made for each other. It was my skin on your skin, and in my mind I floated up and far away.
1. Cold Fantasies

**Chapter 1: Cold Fantasies.**

I see Ron shirtless all the time.

I suppose I see Harry too, and sometimes some of the other boys in our house. Sunbathing in summer, swimming I the lake, or when things get a little out of hand at those post-Quidditch game celebration parties..

I think they know I look a little extra sometimes. Naked skin rather intrigues me, to be perfectly honest. People are always so obsessed with it – nudity I mean – and I've never understood why something so normal and commonplace holds such a fascination with people. It's just skin, everyone has it. Then again, maybe that is exactly why people are obsessed? If you don't make anything interesting for yourself, everything is boring. Obsessed with obsession, sort of thing.

And it's not like you're not allowed to look at people. Everyone does it! Sometimes boys even look at me – I always feel a little jolt in my stomach when I notice, and then I feel a little silly. Do they forget that I'm bookish, insufferable know-it-all Hermione when I'm wearing a bikini? Merlin knows no one looks when I'm in normal clothes.

Except Ron, maybe.

Of course he HAS to look at me; He, Harry and I are together all the time. But sometimes I imagine that he has a particular intensity in his eyes when he looks at me. And I am pretty sure that his gaze lingers on me a little longer than normal sometimes.

Honestly? I have always had a slight suspicion he likes me, but is too shy to act on it. "Looking at me intensely" doesn't really count. Does it?

I like to pretend though.

Having someone interested in me would be quite fascinating. You can't read experiences like that from a book (I've tried). And if the books can't teach you, isn't it your responsibility to find out for yourself?

Sometimes I immerse myself in it a little. Maybe I'll hold his gaze a couple of seconds longer, brush his hair out of his face for him, let my hand brush against his when we're sitting next to each other...always small things. And if he reacts, looks at me with that strange look he sometimes has when he thinks I'm not paying attention - well, it makes me feel great!

Not everyone likes me, you see.

And Ron.. Well, sure, he might not be the manliest man around. And maybe he can't quite keep up with me in school, or keep that kind of philosophical conversation I always imagined I'd have with my boyfriend… And maybe he doesn't care enough about S.P.E.W, or cares too much about that stupid Quidditch team of his, or..!

Sweet guy, though, of course. Nice too, definitely a nice person.

And the other day I heard some Ravenclaws gossip about how he's grown attractive over the summer.

They were going on about how tall he is, and his pale skin and red hair. He's let his hair grow now – it reaches almost all the way down to his shoulders. I like it, I do. It makes him look….nice. And why shouldn't I get some attention too? The other girls are always talking about boys, about all the stuff they've done or want to do, and I never quite know what to say.

I admit it might have been getting a little out of hand lately, though. I guess his newfound attractiveness must be getting to me, like Lavender said about that 7th-year and herself the other day.

I've taken to pushing myself up against him when I have the chance, like if we're pushed together by a mass filing into a classroom. Or just if we're sitting close. A couple of times, when I've kept it up for some time, his eyes mist over a little, he reddens and his voice gets all gruff.

It's amazing, isn't it? Having the power to induce that just by being close, making someone _react_ like that…

Lately I find myself pushing it further.

I've thought about it at night sometimes. I imagine running my hands through his long hair, and I can almost feel the red locks brushing against my fingers. I envision his face, close to my own. His eyes darken with lust, staring at me. His lips swollen. The skin would be warm, and redden.

I've imagined kissing him - lightly at first, barely touching his lips, just brushing against them with my own. Then we'd carefully move on, and I'd slip the tip of my tongue inside his mouth. It'd be warm and wet. His tongue would feel strange against mine, but good.

Then I'd deepen the kiss. Nibble at his lower lip, carefully caressing it with my teeth. Maybe playfully bite. His hands would be eager, nervous at first but growing bolder, searching over my body like I'm sure he's been aching to for six years now. The way he looks at me. His skin would burn for me, just for me and me alone and I'm so beautiful and lovely and marvelous and everyone's wishing its them I'm kissing…

I wonder what it's like to have a boyfriend?

Hermione Granger – she's not like we thought she was. Nice, sweet, dreamy, girly, fun to be around, cute, pretty, funny, adorable, sexy…

I'm usually alone, me. I've never had a boyfriend, I haven't been on any dates, I've never kissed a boy, I've never even held hands.

Maybe I should give Ron a chance. There's nothing wrong with wanting to feel alive, is there?


	2. Blush

SKIN

Chapter 2: Blush

Breakfast today was tense.

My newly made decision to move things along with Ron made me quiver inside, and it felt strange just sitting there, knowing what was going to happen later that day..

It's like I was particularly sensitive to him, noticing every last thing about him; his looks, movements, actions…

I almost felt nervous. My skin tingled uncomfortably.

He acted normal though. I suppose he didn't notice.

I'd never really done anything like this before, so I wasn't sure how to go about it – a new feeling for me! But I'd overheard other girls talking about their dates and boyfriends before, and they always talk about kissing them in broom closets and deserted hallways and suchlike.

So I guessed that's how you're supposed to do it. I can manage that.

I mean, I was sure he'd do right about anything for me. I hoped he would.

So I spent the double DADA class after lunch thinking it through (in between paying attention to Snape of course). The DADA classroom has a conveniently placed broom closet near it, or so I've overheard from Lavender and Parvati.

I planned to dawdle a bit after class, like the others always seem to do. Then I'd get Ron to help me with something, hand me a book or something, and make sure we left the room together and alone. After that, my plans got a little blurry. The idea seemed to be that I should just pull him into a closet and start snogging like crazy. I couldn't quite picture it.

Still, I thought, a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do, right?

No, what I _want_ to do. Of course, silly me. I mean, he's interested, so this is the next step, right? This is what girls do?

He's really very funny and sweet. A nice boy, a great guy. Like those Ravenclaws said.

Anyway, finding no better way of executing the plan, I decided to go for the pull-and-snog. After all, I'm an attractive girl, aren't I? At least he thinks so. He sometimes tells me I look nice. People just have the wrong impression of me - I can be just as wild as anyone, I can!

Certainly as wild as Lavender and Parvati, anyway. They're nothing special. And I can be pretty too.

And so I did it. The plan.

Perfectly, actually.

Ron and I walked out of the classroom together, being the two last to leave. I'd already checked out the placement of the broom closet earlier that day, so I knew very well where it was. He was droning on about something nasty Snape had said during class, and didn't seem to notice how elegantly I'd steered him into position with me. I had to smile to myself then.

The rest of it seemed to happen in a flurry, almost like some silly movie.

When we reached the closet, I suddenly stopped. I turned to him, drew a breath, and said his name. Then I just wrenched open the closet door and jumped in pulling him after me. When I closed the door it was pretty dark, but I could still see him clearly. He looked insecure, pale. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to have to say anything at this point. So I just…..attacked him.

It was nice, I guess.

Different.

I think he was a little shocked at first, but he got over it pretty quickly. Then he started kissing me back, kissing like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do. After all, he is a guy.

His lips were weird against mine. They were…wetter than I'd expected. And harder. I always thought lips would be soft, but they weren't.

I've never kissed anyone before. I tried to remember what I'd overheard from other girls about kissing… Should I close my eyes? Where were my hands supposed to go?

He prodded my lips with his tongue, so I assumed he wanted me to open my mouth – and did so.

His tongue was big, it darted and coiled inside my mouth. I wondered if that's how it would feel to have a snake inside your mouth. Would it twirl like that? His tongue swiped over my teeth, the insides of my cheeks, and my tongue.

I think he really liked it, anyway,

He started making these little moany sounds. That's good, right?

Then he started putting his hands on me. At first they felt cold and stiff, like his skin had hardened to stone. Like an armor, maybe. His fingers dug into my jumper a little, but I was happy – this was supposed to happen when you snogged someone, so I must had been doing it right.

He placed his hands at my waist first, and then started moving them up and down, reaching down to my hips and almost up to my breasts. His hands warmed, I could feel it through my clothes. I felt him, his skin, fingers, nails, everything _him_, just very…close.

I remembered that I shouldn't just stand there, and so I put my own hands around his neck. It was warm, and when I opened my eyes I could see that his face was red too. He looked intense, but his eyes were closed while he kissed me. His eyelids fluttered a little, I think. They looked moist, sweaty. Can your eyelids sweat? If so, his did.

When we were done, he suddenely looked at me and said I was the best girl in the world.

Just like that he said it – "Hermione, you're the best girl in the world, you're just…the best."

He said that.

To me.

He touched my cheek with his fingertips too, carefully. His skin felt soft now, not at all hard and cold like before. And I looked up at him through my eyelids, like I've seen Lavender do with Seamus, and I smiled at him, in that sweet way I've seen her do.

He smiled back down at me. Like I was the only one who mattered to him – the only one in the world. Silly, when you think about it.

It feels good though. I've done it – I'm not a total prude anymore!

I still have that good feeling my tummy now, lying in bed. It feels like I'm real, I'm alive and kicking. Because tomorrow, someone will be looking particularly for _me _at breakfast, and maybe kiss me good morning like Seamus does Lavender?

A part of me wants to do something; disappear, hurt myself, cry. Then he'll come comfort me, run to me, worry about me, and everyone will see him do it. He'll talk about me all the time…and everyone will know what's going on with me. They'll die to know what Hermione Granger is up to today.

I feel like the center of a storm!

The world is crazy and noisy around me, and I'm in the middle. Calm as the sea - deep, unknowable and interesting.

I feel of warmth inside. It grows from my very core, seeping out into my arms and legs, filling my entire body with light. I'm sure my skin is glowing, exuding light from every pore.

Parvati and Lavender are asleep, I think.

They can't see me, but I'm glowing like the sun.

And they'll wake up to see me _shine!_


	3. Fever

**Chapter 3: Fever**

Today is not so good.

The glow from yesterday has receded, and when I woke up this morning I felt frostier than ever. I feel like myself again. Old bookworm-Hermione, alone in her bed and covered up in this nightdress – I look like a 9-year-old. Stupid. No wonder people think I'm boring.

Screw people.

I'm a cocoon sheathed and protected by my covers, and I never want to emerge again. I don't have to, really.

Do other people feel that warmth from yesterday all the time? Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I lack a gene. Maybe there's a secret I haven't been let in on?

I feel like…I don't really want to see Ron today.

What if he's bored with me now? If I say hi and he doesn't answer, if he doesn't look at me.…I'll be so embarrassed. I'll seriously just lie down and die.

I just need him to want me, that's all…

All I want to do is see him, talk to him – I need to know that he's interested! I need it so bad! I feel dirty.

I still haven't gotten up either.

_Please _love me.

Because right now I feel like trash.

So.

My day changed.

After panicking this morning, realization dawned on me and I kicked myself out of bed. There was no need to worry, a kiss is nothing, after all. He would definitely want more of me, and I could do that.

I was late for breakfast, and didn't see him until class. We sat with Harry of course – and I acted like normal. Ron looked sweet.

I could tell he tried to make eye contact with me behind Harry's back a couple of times, and after class he dawdled while I packed my books. Maybe he was trying to get a chance to talk to me alone? I quickly hurried out after Harry and the others.

My heart wanted to talk to him. I wanted to know how he felt about yesterday, the kiss and all. If he thought I was good enough. I thought maybe, maybe I wouldn't feel so cold if I could talk to him.

But my head chickened out.

Kissing is easy – you just stand close and move your lips and tongue a bit, and then everything is okay. Talking is different.

When we kissed, I could tell he liked it. It was a little awkward, I thought. Is it supposed to be like this, all wet and slobbery?

But there's nothing like knowing someone appreciates you, and I think he did. I've always thought of myself as smart, and I always know what to say. Like in class - I talk a lot. But now I'm thinking, maybe it's smarter not to? Maybe I'm better at kissing.

Parvati once said, guys don't like girls to be smarter than them.

Anyway, I couldn't avoid him forever.

My heart and body screamed louder than my head. I had to do _something._

And then suddenly, after dinner, the something arrived all by itself. Harry had left for Quidditch practice, so Ron and I were left alone in the common room. And he turned to me, looking fresh and kind with warmth in his blue eyes.

He said, Do you want to go for a walk?

My heart surged, pounding like crazy and threatening to explode in my chest. I could feel my face going pale, and then blushing as blood rushed to my cheeks. My hands shook in my lap – thank god he couldn't see! A feverish warmth burned in my very core, and spread all the way through my cold body.

I could feel the hair on my arms rising, and licked my lips.

I answered Sure, why not.

And maybe that was heaven right there?

Later, when I lay on the forest floor looking up at the sky, I tried to rekindle that burning feeling of bliss.

My body was warm and inviting, and my heart jumped when he spoke my name.

But the twigs on the ground beneath me were poking my back like spears, and his cold hands explored my body until it belonged to me no longer.

His shallow breathing was noisy – breathy and sharp, like he had to push every gulp of autumn air from his lungs with force. As he fumbled with my skirt he mumbled something, but I couldn't hear. I could hear my own breathing echoing his.

"Hermione, you're so beautiful."

Thankfully, my body responded where my head could not, and I finally allowed it to take over. It answered Ron's touches with movements I knew nothing of, arching my back and closing my eyes.

In my mind, I floated up. Up, up over the bushes and trees, nestling in the greenery and quietness up there. I was a bird - white, clean and peaceful in my simplicity, free to roam the forest roof as I wished.

I looked down at the squirming figures on the ground. Two pale bodies, one beneath the other. Was it passion, beauty? The hair didn't flow like silk, the bodies didn't intertwine like they were made for each other, and the sun did not break out and bathe us in its golden rays of life.

But then skin was suddenly coarse and close, and the sudden sharp pain shot through both body and mind like an arrow.

The shock opened my eyes, and was almost surprised to see him there above me.

Breathing deepened as my body succumbed to the unaccustomed rhythm.

Feeling returned. Everything was movement and noise.

I felt cold again.

'

**Author's Note: **

**Thank you for sticking with Hermione until the (for now) end. I know this storyline probably seems unclear to some of you, or very back and forth. But I guess I'm trying to say something about how people sometimes do rash things, out of frustration or insecurity, when they are growing up. And you can't be as smart as Hermione without getting frustrated at some point or another.**

**Please review, and let me know your thoughts on this one!**


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